For Tonight (one-shot)
by Aldrea Alien
Summary: Corypheus is defeated, there is a new Divine on the Sunburst Throne, and Din Lavellan gets visited by someone she hadn't expected to ever see again...


It was over.

Din paced her quarters. She couldn't sleep, no matter how hard she tried. They'd won, but it didn't feel like a victory. Eventually, her feet led her to the balcony. Somewhere in the eaves, a sparrow chirped.

She leant on the railing and stared out at the clear night sky. Strange how, even with the Breach having dominated the sky for a short while, the absence gnawed at her. Or perhaps in was the absence of other things that bothered her all the more.

Cassandra was gone now. Blackwall, too. It had pained her to see them leave, especially when there'd been no word from the latter companion. She should've been used to losing those she loved. Her mother, her father, her clansmen... _Solas_. For the first time in over two decades she'd trusted a man and he...

She plonked onto the edge of the bed, not sure when she'd left the balcony, and kicked off her slippers. Who could blame him for backing away when he did? There wasn't a decent man in all of Thedas who would lie with an already dead woman. _I never should've kissed him_. It was her fault for getting herself into this stupid mess.

Goose down and silk welcomed her fall as she flopped back onto the bedding and rubbed at her now-unmarked forehead. If he had only explained his reasoning then maybe, just maybe, his departure wouldn't hurt so badly. She would even have accepted him telling her that she'd meant nothing. At least then she would've known and move on without poisoning herself with this toxic cycle of wondering—

She wasn't alone. There'd been nothing to warn her bar the smallest of changes to the air. Din opened her eyes. No one else should be up here, but there was definitely someone standing just on her periphery. An assassin? Wouldn't be the first time.

Flames flickered between her fingers. She sprang to her feet, blasting a great ball of fire at the figure. They ducked and countered her attack. Steam filled the room, obscuring her target. She threw up a barrier, uncertain what else her opponent planned.

"Enough!" a familiar voice boomed. "I did not come here to fight you."

The steam cleared, aided by the mountain breeze threading its ways through the open balcony door. Standing in the middle of the room was a man she'd both hoped and feared she would never see again.

"Solas?" She glanced at the stairs leading to the only way into her quarters. She hadn't heard the door. And how had he gotten past the guards? "You..." Confusion swiftly boiled away as old pain bubbled to the surface. "You've been gone months. _Months_! No word, _no_ explanation and you think you can just wander in here? Did you expect me to welcome you back?"

He took a step back, unafraid yet wary. "No, I did not. But you are right, I _did_ leave without explaining. I only came back because I owed you that much." His head drooped. "However, if you wish for me to leave..."

Din lashed the air before him as he went to turn, drawing his attention back to her. "Oh, no you don't. You leave now and I'll have the entire Inquisition scouring the land for you. _But_ if you think you can wheedle your way into my good graces, then you're too late."

He clasped his hands, silently pleading. "_Vhenan_, I require no more from you than for you to listen."

She glared at him, her arms folded so tightly across her chest that her nightgown strained. _Vhenan_. Even after telling him to stop calling her that, he persisted. But getting angry over it wasn't going to get her the explanation she so desperately wanted to hear. Her backside hit the foot of the bed with a muffled thump. "Then speak."

Solas did. At great length as was common when they conversed. But the words spilling from his mouth were nothing like the wistful, innocent tales he used to tell of ages past.

She listened, barely believing her ears and too stunned to react. The longer he spoke, the tighter the cold mixture of anger and dread in her gut knotted together. _Fen'Harel_? That couldn't be right. But she had seen the soul of Mythal residing within a human body, had witnessed the transferring of the soul of an Old God from a boy to that very person. Why couldn't this be true?

He fell silent, his head lowered. Not ashamed, but prepared for a backlash. And well he should.

She vaulted to her feet, striding across the distance between them to glare him down. "The orb..." The source of Corypheus' power, the cause of all their strife. "It was yours? _You_ were behind this chaos? All those people at the Conclave who died." Human, dwarf, elf, qunari ... the blast hadn't distinguished between them. "My clansmen..." The hunters who had travelled with her. They'd had families, people who mourned their passing ... all because of him. "Was that your intention? Let him destroy the world?"

"No. What he did was not..." He sighed. "The Breach was Corypheus' doing."

Din spun away to pace the width of her quarters. She swore with every step, long and hard and in as many languages as she knew; being in the presence of the Bull's Chargers had given her plenty. "You honestly think he would've been able to do anything without the orb's power?" Even as she said it, she knew it wasn't entirely true. The Breach had only served to solidify a rival in her and the Inquisition, it hadn't given him the Grey Wardens or the red templars. Without the power of the orb, a man like Corypheus would've found another way and the world would never have known it was doomed until it was too late.

"_Vhenan_..."

There was that word again. "By the Dread Wolf, I'm not—" She halted, a hand clapped over her mouth. Her gaze settled on Solas—even knowing the truth, she couldn't shake the name from her mind—and found him patiently standing there, a small smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

"I see that part has finally sunk in."

She backed away. Her legs threatened to give. She managed to settle back on the edge of the bed before they did. "You're..."

His smile fell, giving way to concern. "You've no need to fear me. I bear you no ill will." He took a step closer, one hand partially raised, before halting. "I—"

"You think you're _so_ smart." He had lied to her. About _everything_.

"I don't—"

"You think that you can utter a few words at me and I—the poor, blind Dalish child that I am—will fall for your tricks," she blurted over the top of him. A part of her mind was horrified at what streamed past her lips. She was yelling at the Dread Wolf. Actually yelling. She'd seen how great his temper could be and still couldn't stop herself. _Creators, I'm going to die_. But had she not been considered dead for several decades now? _Then, let me go out fighting_. "Well, let me tell you something, _Fen'Harel_." A part of her registered him flinch as she spat his name, she didn't care. "_I _trained to become my clan's Keeper. I _know_ all the stories about you. I will _not_ be so easily swayed."

"_All_ the stories?" He crouched at her feet, tilting his head to peer up at her face. "Do you also know which are true and which are false?"

_No_. She'd thought them all true until they stood before the Well of Mythal. But what they'd found there ... to think the Keeper had admonished her for not believing wholeheartedly in their tales.

And still, he remained before her, concern shimmering in his blue eyes. "I did not tell you all this to hurt you."

She hugged herself. This was not how she'd envisioned ever dealing with Fen'Harel. He seemed so calm. So ... normal. That wasn't fair. He was meant to be a monster. Why couldn't Solas have just been the charming elf she'd fallen for? After everything that'd gone wrong in her life, didn't she at least deserve even a moment of happiness? "What do you want from me?" she whispered. "Give me the truth."

"Nothing, _vhenan_. On that you have my word. You deserved an explanation and I have given it."

Din grabbed his sleeve as he went to stand. "So far, all I've heard are excuses." She huffed her hair from her face and glared at him. "If you are giving answers, then answer me this: Why did you persist with our little courtship if you'd no intention of staying?" Now that she knew who he really was, a part of her was glad he _had_ distanced himself before things grew any more intimate. She didn't know how she would've coped with such knowledge if they had spent the night together.

He cupped her jaw and sighed. "You are beautiful and, despite what your clan has told you, more alive than anyone I've met. Throughout our travels, you showed a gentleness and wisdom I did not expect to find in one raised such as you were and I..." His gaze slid away. "The fault is mine. I was weak." Those blue eyes lifted to her face. His thumb ran across her bottom lip. "It has been a very long time since I felt such kinship and it was foolish of me to allow our closeness to go as far as..." His mouth was on hers, his kiss the gentlest of caresses. He drew back before she could react. "I apologise. That was wrong of me. I did not come here to impos—"

She grasped his shirt and hauled him back to her, sealing their lips together.

He froze under her touch. Just when she thought he would pull away, he gave a soft moan. His hands, just as strong and sure as the rest of him, coaxed her off the bed and onto his lap. Her precarious position tipped them and they tumbled onto the rug in a tangle of arms and legs.

She squirmed along the floor, seeking to relieve him of the pressure of her limbs digging into his flesh. He didn't seem to be bothered. His lips descended, his teeth grazing her throat. And his hands ... the way his fingers ran over her sparsely-clothed skin felt unbelievable.

"_Vhenan_," he murmured against her neck, his voice thick and hoarse. More words followed; a sentence she could only partially comprehend.

She swore right then and there that she would use everything in her power to learn the full language of her people. Every single scrap she could find. "What did you say?"

His head lifted. Desire, savage but strongly leashed, burned in his eyes. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" The words were out before she could restrain them, the crazed beating of her heart giving them incredible strength. Her arms wrapped around him, holding them tight. "Give me a reason why this can't be, even if only for tonight."

He opened his mouth to speak and seemed to reconsider. His lips twisted, his smile taking on a predatory edge. "It seems I cannot think of one that wouldn't have you—what was it that you threatened to? Set the entire Inquisition on me?"

Whatever did he mean by that? _Oh no_. Had she really threatened to set the Inquisition on the Dread Wolf? She buried her face in her hands. "Creators..." she mumbled. _Mythal, Elgar'nan ... somebody_? She'd even settle for the Maker right now. _Just let the Fade open up and swallow me_.

Soft laughter drew her hands down just as much as his gentle touch on her wrists. He bent over her, that same charming smile she'd fallen for creasing his face. With a single finger under her chin, he tipped her head back. Their noses touched. "_Ma emma harel_," he whispered.

_I should_. With everything she'd ever been taught about him, fear should've been the predominant emotion coursing through her veins. But she'd seen too much, things her people hadn't known for generations. It was past the time she came to her own conclusions. It didn't matter if he truly was who he said, she didn't fear him.

Her lips parted. She drank in his breath for the few seconds it took for him to fill the space with his mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips, battling her own for dominance. His knee slid between hers, slowly making room for himself and, the whole time, never once relinquishing her lips.

One hand snaked down her body, grazing over her breast, gliding across her stomach. He tugged on her nightgown, inching it ever higher, the silken drag of cloth over her legs its own exquisite torture. His fingers dipped beneath the fabric and her body arched of its own accord. A low moan shuddered in her throat.

He released her and sat back. She watched in a daze as he shed layer after layer of clothing. He paused in the act of pulling his tunic over his head to softly curse. The old jawbone he wore around his neck had become entangled with the cloth.

She giggled.

The already sharp angle of his brows grew sharper as he frowned. Then he chuckled, perhaps realising how ridiculous he looked, and tossed the tunic aside. "Do you enjoy seeing me struggle, _vhenan_?" he asked as he resumed bending over her, the old jawbone nestling between her breasts.

Din slid her hands down his sides in answer and smiled at the way his muscles twitched beneath her touch. Her fingers found the waist of his pants, then the laces holding them tight. The knot unravelled at her insistent plucking. "_Ma'arlath_," she breathed.

His face softened at the confession. Sure, tender fingers traced her forehead where the swirling lines of her vallaslin once lay. One hand dipped, his thumb running over her bottom lip. Like the last time he'd been this close, sorrow wove across his face. "I cannot stay and I cannot expect you to come with me. Nor should you. Your place is here."

"I know." After having him walk away, the tilt in his shoulders dejected but resolute, she'd expected such words. But she wanted this, wanted him. Just once. Determined, she wriggled out from beneath him and, smiling at his puzzled expression, led him to her bed. "But if you won't be here tomorrow, then let us have this night."

He grasped her waist, drawing her against his warm, firm body. His lips, soft and insistent, nuzzled at her neck. "For tonight, then," he purred, his breath tingling along her skin.

_For tonight_, she echoed, allowing him to lower her onto the blankets. If she couldn't have forever, then she would have now.


End file.
